Stop and Stare
by MusicChannySkyscraper
Summary: We have our own little routine in the Cooper household... and I hate to think that it will never change. My second one-shot based on hope for eternity's story 'Don't I Know You' Cooper family-centric, from Chad's point of view. Sort-of based on the song Stop and Stare by OneRepublic. Enjoy! :D


**A/N: Ah-ha, I seriously have a confession to make. I have two true loves right now – the song Stop and Stare by OneRepublic, and beautiful FanFiction. And what do you get if you mix one incredible story with one amazing song and one overactive imagination?**

**This one-shot! **

**Heheh, so this one-shot is based on Don't I Know You? by hope for eternity (yes, I'm writing another DIKY one shot. Sue me), because it's one of the best FanFictions ever and I just love it so much (LOVE YOU HANNAHHHHH! Thanks for letting me do this! *huggy bear*), and I'm actually gonna do it from Chad's point of view. *puffs* I hope I do him justice, cos that guy is just awesome. :P It's based a couple of months before Sonny comes to Hollywood. **

**I don't own Sonny with A Chance, Don't I Know You?, or Stop and Stare, no matter how much I wish that I do. **

**Enjoy x**

* * *

_Stop and Stare_

_One step. One small step at a time. _

…

_C'mon, Chad. C'mon. All you gotta do is make it to the car. Make it to the car, and you can get out of here for good._

…

You know you've gone insane when you begin giving yourself advice. But this is important.

I have to get out of here. _Now_.

Taking a deep breath, I stare down at my feet as if that'll get them going. I feel frozen to the floor, though. I snort derisively. Frozen from fear, maybe? Maybe my feet are too scared to move, cos if they do, Charles'll probably be able to sense it, and then he'll know what I'm about to do and he'll come out here and he'll beat me to the ground and carry me back to my room and lock me in there and bolt up the door so I can never leave. Maybe he'll even leave me in there without food, water. Maybe he'll leave me alone in there, to die. And maybe he'll throw in a couple of hungry wolves to the mixture to get rid of me quick.

I bet you think I'm a mental, paranoid freak. But I'm not, I swear.

_He's _a_ monster. _

And I'm getting _away from him._

_As far as possible._

I glance over my shoulder, just to check. Just for a second, to check that he hasn't come to give me another lovely beating. _Ugh_. It makes me gag just to think of the stench of alcohol on his breath that he reeked of last night. I clutch my stomach, where he kicked me – not too tightly, though. It hurts like hell.

The CDC inside me rolls his eyes. _C'mon, dude. Don't be such a baby. _But I know that even he wants to get away from that ogre of a man.

Who wouldn't?

He's a_ psychopath. _

He's not hanging around when I look behind me. Neither is mom. Nor Vanessa, or Hayley, or Esme. The thought of their smiling faces makes me feel even more ill. If they knew what I was about to do… I've ran away from them before. It wasn't pretty. It was so, so many years ago…

It feels like a lifetime ago. That lifetime when I was happy (or, at least, where I was not a miserable, arrogant, world-renown megastar who was secretly used as a punching bag at home).

That lifetime where I had _her. _

The thought of her shimmering brown eyes makes me choke. The memory is hazy – it's three years old. It's ancient. But not fading. _Never fading_. How could memories of _her_ fade away? How could I let _her_ go that easily? I may have lost her a forever ago, but that doesn't mean that I had to beat her completely out of my life.

I could _never_ do that. _Sonny Munroe _– I choke on a sob as I remember her name – can't be forgotten that easily. She's too special, too perfect…

_Focus, Chad. Focus. You're running out of time. Just get on with it._

I take a deep, long intake of breath, closing my eyes.

_Steady feet, don't fail me now. _

Closing my eyes, counting to three, my shaking right foot lifts, and then falls, a few seconds forward of my left. I instruct myself all the way to my car – _left, right, left, right – _almost as if I've forgotten how to walk. I glance at the car in front of me, as I stand there, mulling around the half-way point between the car and the front door. I got the car for my sixteenth birthday a couple of months ago. The car is flashy. It's cool. It's shiny and new.

And I hate it.

It's a reflection of _CDC_ – a statement of everything I never wanted to be. Loud, expensive, primped and _perfect_.

I don't want to be perfect. I want to be _me. _

But I never get a choice at that anymore, do I?

But, for once, this baby's gonna be worth it. She's fast. She'll get me away from Charles before he even knows I've gone.

The implications of running away – of being _free – _make my head whirl. Whirl with excitement and nerves and anger and frustration and so many more emotions that I can no longer place; no longer _care _enough to place.

I reach the car and shudder in slight pleasure. Relieved. I've made it this far and no-one's caught me.

Now for the tricky bit. Getting this noisy hunk o' junk out of here.

I open the car door, shivering a little as it makes that small clicking noise. But my house – _Charles' _house; I refuse to call that _place _my home – stays silent. No-one opens the door. No-one seems to have noticed my disappearance. When I left Charles was doing some work in his study; Mom and Hayley are out having a 'girly day out' even though I know Hayley's probably kicking herself about it right now – I chuckle to myself when I think about my tomboyish sister. No way is Mom gonna get that girl to buy dresses and curlers and make-up – she'll probably find a cool pair of sneakers and call it a day.

As for little Esme – sweet, sweet Esme – she's watching her favourite TV shows, giggling and squealing adorably while Vanessa's making her lunch.

Pfft. _Charles_ doesn't _care _enough to make us lunch. If it were up to him, we'd probably all starve to death while he chowed down on some lobster or something. Yeah, lobster. _Ugh_.

_It's okay, _I assure myself, _it's okay. You're leaving him behind. No need to complain about him anymore. _

I sit for a minute and contemplate on where I should go. Hmm. I debate Condor Studios, but that's way too close. Charles will find me too easy. And really, where's the fun in that? It's too close, too unadventurous. If my… best friend taught me anything, is that there's nothing better than an adventure. Well, nothing better than an adventure with _her_, but hey, let's not dwell on the subject too much…

I then propose Texas – my home – but scratch that idea out in an instance. _Pssh_. I never want to go back there again – that is, not if it means bumping into my man-whore father who cheated on my mother and was the whole reason for us leaving and running into the arms of the second evil man in my life. _Next_.

Hmm… Wisconsin? _Wisconsin_.

Wis-con-sin.

_**Wisconsin**_.

Those three syllables dredge up a lifetime of memories. Wisconsin, as in, _Sonny's_ home state. I could see Sonny again.

_See_ her. _Again_. _Finally_. The one thing I've been hoping to do for weeks – months – _years. _I want to. I want to. I _so_ want to.

_I want to._

And that's exactly why I _can't_.

There are so many things wrong with going to Wisconsin. It's too risky. Maybe my father will get word that I was there and track me down, and so he'd be close to Sonny and he could beat her if he wanted answers. Or maybe Charles could beat it out of one of my sisters that my best friend is from Wisconsin and then he'd find me or even _Sonny_ and that wouldn't end very prettily either way.

And not to mention there's Sonny _herself _to consider. _Sonny_. Poor, sweet, gentle, loving Sonny. My leaving probably tore her apart, as it did for me. I doubt that, if I arrived back, she'd welcome me back with open arms. No way. Heck, _I_ wouldn't take me back after all these years with no contact. But… maybe… if I just _explained_ to her what happened… she'd forgive me?

I don't even know anymore.

I stick the key in the car, deciding to be spontaneous and just drive till I find somewhere, and the engine roars a little, like a tiger or something. I make a 'hush' sound to the car, and then roll my eyes because it's a damn inanimate object and it can't hear me and I really am going as crazy as Vanessa told me I was last night. Only she said it as an apparent joke – whereas I mean it.

Someone else _can_ hear me though, even if the car can't. All too well.

"CHAD!"

The sound of a voice yelling from the house window makes me jump out of my skin, because at first I think it's Charles or maybe even _Joe _but nope. Just my sister. My sister.

_My sister_. Oh joy.

"Chad Taylor Dylan Goldfarb Cooper, what the hell are you-"

I rev the engine, not wanting to hear my oldest sister's ranting at me. Nessa's voice is so inaudible, when you compare it to the roaring of the car. But if there wasn't a glass window between us, she'd be so thunderous I'd probably lose some of my hearing. She waves at me through the front room window, her eyes wide and her mouth set in a thin line. I give her a small, sarcastic wave, and then regret it. This is not Vanessa's fault. I shouldn't mock her.

My sister leaves the window and exits the house through the door a few seconds later, letting out a puff of air and folding her arms. "Calm that thing down!" She screams at me as the engine lets out another animalistic roar at the arrival of our new visitor.

"Down, boy!" I joke, giving my sister a sheepish, impish smile. She doesn't fall for it. Not one bit. She shakes her head, slowly, folding her arms over her chest. In a vague part of my mind, I think of Uncle Graeme's face when he caught us when Sonny and I ran away that time when I was thirteen and she was twelve. I've been caught even quicker than I was that time, red-handed.

"Heyyy, Nessa." I greet my sister, taking the key out and stashing it in my pocket. "Wassup, girl? I thought you were making Esme-"

"What's the news, lil' bro?" She cuts me off, her voice wavering between lovely sweetness and pure fury. "Why are you out here, messin' around in the car? You could wake up some sleeping old granny, you know?"

I smile mischievously. "That'd be kind of fun…" It sounds just like one of the pranks I used to pull when I was a kid. With my sisters, and… my best friend. But again, let's not dwell on that.

"Bro." Nessa state, placing a palm on her forehead, "I know you. Because you're my only brother, and you're the one I'd consider more like me – _I know you_. And _I know_ that you're up to no good. So, spill the beans."

I chuckle, before realising I sound slightly hysterical. "Heh. _Spill the beans_. That's funny, cos-"

"_Bro._" Nessa snaps, leaning on the door of my convertible. "_Speak._"

"Woof." I snort. Vanessa shoots me the evil eyes and I give in. "I just need some air, is all." I shrug.  
"And you're pollutin' that air with the fumes comin' from your car, baby brother." She drawls, smirking slightly, "C'mon, we both know there's more to it than _that_." She leans in close, like she's reading my eyes. I blink. Rapidly. And then suddenly, her eyes widen and she takes in a deep intake of breath, like she's made a realisation.

"Don't you dare." She demands.

"Oh, so you're a mind-reader now, huh?" I say, my teenage-guy-ness making the words so much harsher than needed.

"Chad Taylor-"

"Oh, don't give me the lecture, Ness." I bark. My sister's eyes soften. My heart sinks. Nessa's never 'soft'. The last time she was this vulnerable was when she was sixteen and- and-

And _my father_ tore the family apart.

"What is it I'm supposed to be doing, anyways?"

Nessa grits her teeth, "Don't act innocent, Chad, you know what you're doing. What I want to know is _why. Why _you're leaving us!"

Oh. She got it bang on. Yay her.

"I don't get it, Chad," My sister continues, placing a tired hand on her forehead, "We're your family. Families don't ditch each other."

"We ditched Dad."

"That was for a totally justified reason." Nessa scoffs, "You can't be siding with that ass-hat…"

"I'm siding with _myself_." I snap, sounding more like a selfish brat than ever. Maybe Charles is right – no matter how tough a pill it is to swallow. Sure, I don't deserve to be beaten – no person deserves that – but maybe I am just an ungrateful brat? "Now, step back, before I run over your foot."

My sister folds her arms and pretty much roots herself to the floor. "Get out of that car, Chad."

I sink in my chair and stick out my bottom lip, acting more like a six year-old brat than a six_teen _year-old one. "Why should I?"

"Because… you can't just run from what's going on. You need to confront it."

"You know I can't do that, Vanessa." I snap. "Charles would… he'd…"

I trail off. Vanessa knows about the beatings with Charles. She walked in on me recovering from one once and managed to back-chat it out of me – but she doesn't know that Charles threatened to hurt her and the rest of my girls if I told the authorities about what was going on. I couldn't frighten her like that – I never will. That wouldn't make anything better, telling on him like that; and it would terrify Vanessa if she knew that she, her Mom, and her sisters are being threatened, behind closed doors, while her brother is being thrown around like an old trash bag.

Vanessa seems to soften at the mention of our evil stepfather, nonetheless. She lifts a finger, beckoning me out of the car. Still determined to get away from Charles, I shake my head, folding my arms. Vanessa's eyes flash in frustration and she just snaps, like a twig. "Ugh! Why can't you just give up and admit you're wrong! You're as bad as Dad!"

And at that, my shoulders slump. Her last sentence repeats in my head like some sick broken record. Too many times, when I was younger, was I told that I was definitely 'my father's son'. When we left Dad, I never wanted to be compared to him ever again.

And Vanessa _knows _that.

"Gee. Thanks, sis." I say in monotone, "Nice to know that you think so highly of me."

Vanessa's eyes widen when she realises her mistake, "Oh- oh, Chad, I didn't mean it...

But I don't care. The damage is done anyways. I unbuckle my seatbelt and swing the door open, only just missing Vanessa's knees. I get out of the car shuffle back to the front door. Nessa follows, creeping behind me.

"Baby bro... You know I didn't mean it! I was just mad-"

"Well, if you think that I bear such a resemblance to Dad, then maybe I _do_ deserve the beatings, then, and I _should_ stay." I say, not turning back to face my sister.

Nessa frowns, distressed, "Chad, stop it. No-one _deserves _beatings!" She grabs my arm and in one quick motion, I snap it away, whacking her arm in the process. She shouts a small "ow", yet attempts it again, holding on tighter this time. Feeling paralysed, I turn to face my eldest sister, who bites her lip. She looks kind of defenceless, weak, confused. She looks angry and frustrated and disappointed and oh so upset.

The exact emotions she displayed - we all displayed - when we found out the news of Dad's cheating and when he _hit me_.

I swallow hard, "Just leave me alone." I spit in her face, before disappearing back into the house. I kick off my shoes and make my way to the stairs, keeping my head down. I bump into a figure, but when I look up to apologise the words sort of die in my mouth.

"Watch where you're going, you little brat." Charles snaps in my face. He shoves me and I fall against a wall, collapsing in a little heap on the floor, too exhausted to even think of fighting back. Charles lets out a small, evil chuckle, brushing his dark hair back with his hand. He notices Vanessa walk in and scowls.

"And where were you going, young lady? I thought you were making lunch!" He demands. Angry at Vanessa or not, it takes all I have not to jump on his back for talking to my sister like that. Vanessa sighs, worn out.

"I just needed some air." She says simply, "Me and Chad were just talking outside-"

"Well, don't." Charles says in an authoritative tone. Sometimes it scares me how much he bears resemblance to the head of the TV studio I work at, Mr Condor. The way they both talk down to everyone makes me shudder.

Fortunately, Condor doesn't beat me, or I really would have no place to hide.

Charles, clearly having come downstairs for no other reason than to yell at us, turns and walks off, stomping on my foot as he walks off. I whimper helplessly and Vanessa shoots me a sympathetic look, which I ignore. I don't need her sympathy. I should just stop being so damn defenceless.

Noticing my hostility, Vanessa sighs and leaves back to the front room where Esme is and that's when Charles comes back and whispers in my ear;

"Your mom's arranged a girl's movie night, apparently. So tonight, it'll just be me and you in here…" He finishes with a small chuckle and whacks me on the back of the head, and with a jolt and a stab of slight guilt that I need to defy my sister tonight and get out of here.

And so that, ladies and gentlemen, leads us to 9:30pm that night – Operation: Get Away From the Monster, Take Two. Esme is in bed; Mom, Hayley and Vanessa are off watching some chick flick, and Charles has been out for about thirty minutes, presumably off at a bar somewhere getting smashed. This means I have about ten to forty minutes to pull this off – when Charles promises me a beating, plastered or not, he doesn't like to keep me waiting. I know. How thoughtful of him.

It feels like a rerun of this afternoon, only the air is colder and the night has arrived and the late-evening chill is sending a shiver down my spine – a shiver that cannot match the shudder I get when I hear that voice of Charles'. I can hear it ringing in my head, like my conscience has turned against me, beckoning me back into the house. But not this time. This time, I'm going, and I won't be stopped.

Sticking the key into the car, starting the engine, I let it murmur gently, so as to not awaken Esme, and then back out of the driveway carefully, looking both ways down the road to check that Charlie hasn't returned earlier than expected. But fortunately the road is empty, and the time is ticking and I need to get out of here before I do something I may live to regret. Slowly, oh so slowly, I continue down the road, and when I'm far enough away from my street, I rev the engine, which roars monstrously, and I'm on the freeway out of here.

And yet, the voice of Charles still echoes in my head. In fact, it seems that the further I get away from the house, the louder his voice gets. It summons me, a demon in the back of my mind.

_Come back, Chad, _it coos, _Come back, you brat. If you dare to go further…_

I snort. "You can't do anything to me." I tell the voice in my mind, and decide I truly have gone insane. "Not now."

_I will find you, Chad. _His voice echoes in that evil voice of his, _I will. Someday. And you will pay for every **second** that you've been away from home._

The likeness to his real voice is astonishing. I realise that I've heard his voice threatening me so often that my mind can make a pitch-perfect performance of it.

"I can hide, though." I say, my voice quivering like it usually does around him. "I can hide from you until I'm legally allowed on my own, and then you can't touch me!"

_Hide for two whole years? _Charles chuckles, _I doubt that. _

"You don't know where I'd hide."

_Oh, but I'd be able to put forward your case. Put forward some notice of a crazed teen going missing and his poor mother and stepfather being unable to find him. _He gives out a low laugh again. _And besides, you couldn't stay away from your family for two whole years, could you?_

My shoulders slump. "Maybe."

_But Chad… _The voice is changed now. To the voice of my mother. Just hearing it, after the monster that is Charles, sends my mind into a frenzy. I try to block out the thoughts with the reminder 'it's Charles, Chad. That voice is Charles…'

"I'm not coming back." I insist.

_You're leaving us alone? _The voice is now Hayley. I slam my head against the steering wheel to try and make it stop. But it doesn't. _Chad, you can't stay away from us forever. We're your family. _

The voice is sincere, but with that hint of teasing and pure evil added onto it. That's the constant reminder that this is not my Hayley speaking to me, but a monster. But with the voice of my little sister, it's hard to ignore.

_Yeah, Chad. _The joking, taunting voice of my oldest sister rings in my head and makes me want to crash the car just to make it stop.

_Don' leave, Chad. _The teething voice of my baby sister coos, _Pwease. _

"STOP IT!" I yell at the voice, stopping the car on the side of the road with a screech. One car has to swerve to avoid me and the occupant yells a profanity, but I don't really care. "I don't care who you try to convince me with, Charles. I. Am never. Coming back. I am so _sick_ of you and your stupid mind games and if I hang around in that house for one more second I will lose my mind. And don't try to guilt-trip me, cos I don't even care about leaving my family behind!"

And then, the voice takes a long, deep pause. And then, in a voice so familiar to me, because I hear it every day in my thoughts, says three small words that cause me to turn the car right around.

…_Really, Chad? Really?_

And so, being the coward I am, I return home. Mom and my sisters are still out and Esme is still in bed when I arrive, but Charles is back – well, it has only been fifty or so minutes since I left. Charles grabs me by the arm when I come within reach and tells me that I'm a pathetic brat for running and hiding and that maybe I'm even weaker than he thought. That doesn't mean he goes easy on the beatings, though. Every kick, punch, and blow, echoes harder than ever more. The stench of alcohol, imprinted on my mind, makes me throw up a little in my mouth while Charles continuously punches me in the face.

I sleep on the couch in the front room that night – probably because that's where I pass out. I wake up grudgingly with a headache and a stomach ache and a ton of bruises that a tentative Vanessa helps cover. She apologises, saying she should've stayed behind and protected me, but we both know that wouldn't have helped because that man never breaks his promise when it comes to my beatings.

And when I realise how Vanessa is cleaning me up while my other sisters and Mom are oblivious and while Charles hides in his study, the victor for another night, I note with a shudder and a disappointed scowl that we really do have a routine in this house.

And I doubt it will ever end.

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**A/N: Ta daaa! There we go! And that's the last time I do a DIKY one-shot! (maybe :P) I know it had no Channy, but hey... that wasn't the point. It was just a Cooper-family angst one-shot, cos the Cooper family (bar Charles) are awesome.**

**And that thing went totally off-track, by the way. It was sort-of related to Stop and Stare, I guess, but I dunno. Regardless, I like the way it turned out :)**

**I hope y'all loved it! Especially all you DIKY fans out there, and **hope for eternity **herself! And now I want to see what you guys think! Did I do the DIKY-universe justice? I sure hope so, cos last time (**Christmas Letters**) came out pretty well :)**

**Bye! **

**~Amy x**


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